Tag Archives: Winter

At some point, we all shower, get dressed for work, make coffee and then realize it is a Saturday, when we don’t work on Saturdays. Or, we go through our Thursday schedule and somewhere around 2pm realize it is only Tuesday. And my personal favorite is when we go about a Monday morning like it’s Sunday—whoops, late for work. But what happens when you lose track of your training schedule? Jumping back into your schedule where you left off may not be the healthiest route and, if you’re like me, it’s a mental debacle.

January has been rough for my marathon training. I moved, I got the flu followed by some food poisoning, and I’ve just been out-of-running spirits. (Not to mention the -19 wind-chill outside). But who said marathon training wouldn’t come with obstacles, right? There is no giving up—I am conquering this feat with my feet—and if there was ever a time when I need a goal like this, it is now. So my plan to get back on track begins with a look at where I jumped the rails and how I should’ve handled barriers. And then, how I will handle them now.

1. Moving: run to pack and pack to run

Everything about moving is stressful: packing boxes, cleaning, packing the uhaul, driving 15 hours (with dogs), and then, of course, unpacking. As you can imagine, it gets even more difficult to get out and run when you have packed your running clothes and shoes in various boxes. Lesson 1: pack a small bag with all your running gear and leave it far away from your boxes.

2. Flu: too sick to run and then sick of running

The flu wiped me out for 6 days—a big schedule interrupter. But the worst part about it was that when I was feeling better I lost my drive to run. Being on the couch for a week made me into a couch potato. And for someone who is not normally a couch potato, it was nice. Lesson 2: force yourself into a recovery jog just to remind yourself of why you like to run.

Sarah, left above, forced me on a 4 mile run once I recovered from the flu.

3. Winter-blues: wimpy is as wimpy does

As I’ve mentioned before, winter-running can be awful, and awfully slippery. But winter even without the running can bring all sorts of woes, and I have found that once winter brings my spirits down my running falls flat too. Lesson 3: do fun winter-only activities to remember that winter ‘aint so bad.

A little snowshoeing in a winter-wonderland helps you appreciate winter.

My new schedule:

Rather than following my schedule this month, I have been running whenever I feel up to it. Bad idea. Knowing that this mentality is nothing but a lazy way of staying in shape, I’ve re-written my schedule and did a priority check on my lifestyle. Running had fallen below moving, writing, cooking, and sleeping. It needs to crawl back up and claim its spot under “waking up.” So, in attempt to regain my strength and schedule, I’m posting my new marathon training schedule beginning tomorrow. And this time I mean it.

My life tends to be a moving paradox: I hate being cold but I love winter, I don’t like heights but I climb 800 foot cliffs, and my 108 pounds can lift a surprising amount of weight. When winter hit New England last year, I said I was not going to try ice climbing—cold, wet, scary ice? No. Climbing on rock was one thing, climbing on slippery, easy-breaking ice was a whole other game that I had no interest in playing.

But when Jeremy showed up with my size boots, extra ice tools, and hand warmers, I only had two choices in front me: work on my graduate thesis or go play in the woods. I put on all of my Black Diamond, Mammut, North Face, and Patagonia gear (it pays having a partner who works in a gear shop), opened bags of foot and hand warmers, said bye to my dog (just in case I didn’t come back), and headed in 10-degree weather to Vermont’s Smuggler’s Notch.

Smuggler’s Notch, known for its ski resort, is close to some of Vermont’s most popular winter get-a-ways and attractions—Stowe and, of course, the Ben and Jerry’s Factory. But deep inside the notch, tourists are scarce, and aside from the occasional backcountry skier all you see are snow-covered trees, frozen boulders, and vertical waterfalls. And amidst this winter wonderland, all you feel is the not-so-pleasant wind tunnel that sweeps through the notch.

The only advice that I received from my ice-expert partner was “shake out your arms often so you don’t vomit from pain later.” And all I heard from that was “vomit” and “pain.” I giggled nervously, checked my rope and crampons, swung my ice tools around my wrists (no one trusted me climbing without leashes), and made my way over to the waterfall.

It was beautiful. Stoic. Unyielding. I swung my first pick high above my head, shouted a good “woot!” when it stuck solidly into the ice, swung the other, and baby-stepped up to my arms. Shake. Swing. Step. I glided up the route, forgetting the -10-degree wind chill and my fear. Although I was thankful that the route was short (I was exhausted after about 20 feet), I also did not want to stop.

What amazed me most about climbing ice was the mental transformation that occurred organically. Nothing was paradoxical and nothing invaded my mind except my movement. I was not a skinny 26-year old bookworm attempting to ice climb. I was strong. Focused. Empowered.

Climbing ice, like climbing rock, takes so much more than brute strength; it takes strength of the mind and strength in movement. You can have chicken legs and weigh half of your (often male) climbing partner. For me, it is a sport that empowers mind and body as well as closes that gender gap that I find invades many other sports.

As ice season grows near, I am stocking up on hand and foot warmers, and I’m saving up for my own gear. And although ice screws seem a bit scary, I can’t help wondering what it would feel like to lead-climb ice.